


For the Ages

by m1masr00m



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, just...all of class 77 but not enough yet to tag them all, sagimita will never not be my otp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-17 02:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11841807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m1masr00m/pseuds/m1masr00m
Summary: ‘…I was…it’s just that, well, before we met, I was…I was s-so…unhappy.’(Short Sagimita drabbles following this 30 day OTP challenge: http://otp-imagines-cult.tumblr.com/post/133309701572/30daychallenge1 )





	1. Day 1, Meeting

He knew he needed _something_. Something to interrupt the perpetual monochrome, the dull blur that was his day to day life hiding behind an identity that was never his own. He remembered how, once upon a time, what he did felt like a _performance._ He’d dupe and hypnotise the unsuspecting masses as easily as he made coffee for himself every morning, and then he’d take a proud and sweeping bow behind closed doors, when the day ended, when he was alone and able to egotistically relish in the fact that _no one knew who he really was._ Such strict protection of his identity felt like he was protecting the very core of himself, that basic and sacred knowledge that he _existed_ , even if nothing else was certain. He _craved_ the feeling of being anonymous, a mystery to anybody other than himself, and the idea that he was constantly fooling people, outright lying to their faces, was pure _elation_. It cast a bright, shimmering veil over a grey reality that he felt unable to face. It allowed him to live his life in a way that accommodated his most primal and basic instincts telling him that he was _absolutely nothing._

Sagishi was a living mask, and for a long time that was enough. Until it wasn’t.

Because passing through life day after day without one fixed identity, as a phantom that expertly eluded all forms of genuine affection and contact, was _lonely._ Deeply and painfully lonely. A gutting loneliness that made him weep and utterly _loathe_ himself in the small hours of the morning when the world was deathly quiet, leaving him all alone with his poisonous thoughts. Crossing the street every day, weaving his way through dense swarms of strangers chattering with loved ones, school friends or colleagues, came to reinforce the fact that he had nobody. Nobody who loved him, nobody who hated him. Just nobody. On the subway, he would spy those who sat in silence, busily texting on their phones. He would take note of every time their lips formed a quiet smirk, or their brows furrowed in confusion, as they performed the most basic act of _communicating with others in their lives._ A lump would lodge in his throat and his chest would become tight as he bitterly reminded himself that truly putting himself out into the world would be dangerous and foolish and that he knew better. Yes, a life like that was off limits to Sagishi, a fact he just had to make peace with.

And he _had_ made peace with it, countless times. He’d made peace with being alone, but it didn’t stop it from hurting. Maybe he just had to make peace with the fact that _nothing_ could stop it from hurting, that this was his life and he was truly destined to feel this way until his death, when none of it mattered anymore. He could deal with longing and he could deal with pain. He could deal with isolation so intense that it _suffocated_ him every time he was made conscious of it. He had dealt with these things his entire life and he would for the rest of his life.

Of course, he didn’t dare hope when he encountered Ryota Mitarai that, somehow, his life would actually change. Sagishi stumbled upon the boy one late and lonely night, in the deserted halls of Hope’s Peak’s old boarding house. At school, he was Byakuya Togami, young heir to the Togami corporation who was soon to enrol in Hope’s Peak himself, a fact that had rendered Sagishi desperate to find a new mask before he was caught out. That night he had heard noises outside his door. Mutterings, whisperings, and a muffled thump followed by an eerie silence that instantly piqued Sagishi’s curiosity. Sure enough, outside his door was a young man in school uniform, unconscious, face down on the floorboards. Upon turning the limp body over, Sagishi’s heart lurched in his chest at the sight of the student: worryingly, no, _painfully_ underweight, skin that was waxy and grey, as if belonging to a corpse, instantly noticeable dark circles etched into the ashen skin under his eyelids. The sight almost made him sick, chills prickling over the back of his neck as he stooped down in front of him and placed his limp head onto his knees. The boy was hot, utterly _burning_ with fever, his forehead glistening with clammy sweat. _How did this happen_? Why was this being _allowed_ to happen? Why wasn’t the boy surrounded by school friends worried sick, or the school nurse? Anyone at all?

At first, Sagishi couldn’t help but to curse his rotten luck at being the one to stumble upon the situation, because _now he was the one who had to deal with it._

But could it be that this boy was also alone?

_Alone just like him?_

Only after squinting could Sagishi make out that his cracked lips were moving ever so slightly, producing a sound infinitely lower than a whisper, barely audible, more of a rasping breath;

‘…Need...to eat…something…’

‘Hello?’ Sagishi exclaimed suddenly, waving a hand in front of the boy’s face ‘Are you awake? Are you alright?’

However, the unnamed student’s lips simply continued to move, for the most part entirely silently, as if he was sleep talking. The same disturbing phrase left his lips again, less audibly this time, then again after that.

‘…N..d…eat…some…someth…’

Sagishi’s breath caught in his throat. The kid was clearly suffering, but the nurse’s office would undoubtedly be closed up this late at night, as would the local doctor’s office across town. Besides, he desperately needed to keep a low profile, so both of those options would be out of the question either way. He was entirely at a loss for what to do with the boy other than scoop him up in his arms and cart him to the only dorm room down the corridor with its door wide open. That had to be his room, right? Laying him carefully onto the bed, Sagishi closed the door behind him, sat in the thick darkness and simply watched. Watched in silence as the sick boy slept, stared into his closed eyes as if waiting for them to flutter open, slowly brushed the back of his plush hand gently across his skin. Only for the purposes of checking for a temperature, of course. Somewhere in the shadowy bedroom, a clock was ticking, which mingled with laboured breathing to fill the room with unsettlingly rhythmic white noise. The boy’s skin was on fire, his forehead slick with feverish sweat, his breathing ragged and so uneven. Swallowing heavily, suddenly feeling unbearably nervous, Sagishi hesitantly allowed his thumb to trace the sharp lines of his cheekbone up to his purple under-eye circles. His skin felt...as neglected as his body appeared. He could make out the cut of his collarbones, even his ribs under his thin, damp shirt as his chest rose and fell unsteadily. His longish, mousy-brown hair was oily and matted between Sagishi’s fingers, and he was especially carefully not to pull against any major knots or tangles.

How ironic that this was the closest he had felt to another person in a desperately long time, and the other party wasn’t even aware of his existence. He swiftly pulled his lingering hand away, inhaling and reminding himself that what he was doing would probably be considered socially unacceptable. At least, he was sure the mystery student wouldn’t appreciate him touching his face or hair if he woke up to discover that he was.

But

Feeling his skin against another’s, against the boy’s hair. Feeling his meagre weight on the bed beside him, being so intensely close to the shallow rise and fall of his chest and the sharp lines of his frame as they drifted with his erratic breathing.

There was something beautiful about it. Powerfully, profoundly beautiful. Something Sagishi, the Super High School Level Imposter, had never experienced before.

It was hard to call this stranger _beautiful,_ at least in his current state, (which wasn’t saying much). However, in this moment, he was the most perfect thing Sagishi had ever seen. So perfect that he could almost close his eyes and pretend that he never had to be alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back from the dead  
> this will have fluffier chapters i promise  
> even though this is a '30 day prompt' there's no way i can write one chapter every day...so just ignore that  
> i'm thinking of updating this every week to give myself time to actually write them  
> next chapter: Day Two, Realisation


	2. Day Two, Realisation

Ryota knew why he was here. Ryota knew that he existed for one purpose, one precious, _golden_ purpose that made his otherwise petty and pitiable life worth something beyond itself, and that purpose was to singlehandedly craft the most beautiful, the most gloriously _hopeful_ masterpiece of Japanese animation of his time. It was as simple as that, really. In his own eyes, he had always been nothing but a vessel through which he’d eventually unleash his chef d’oeuvre upon the world. A vessel that, annoyingly enough, had proven itself entirely incapable of keeping up with his... _strenuous_ work schedules. He found himself cursing his weak and vulnerable body every time his eyes flew open to the pale ceiling of his bedroom, memories of the last few hours in shreds as he sighed, shakily pulled himself to his feet and staggered towards his computer once more because _there’s still so much to do and he’s not done yet and he’s barely made any progress today._

Sometimes his hand would be shaking as he gripped his pen, to which he often responded by giving it a stern slap, attempting to steady himself, and unwaveringly pressing on as efficiently as he could until he felt unbearably hungry and lightheaded enough to drag himself to bed at hell-o’clock in the morning. He was lucky that he didn’t have friends at Hope’s Peak, no one to ask him how he was holding up or check in on him every once in a while; it didn’t matter as long as he was physically capable of advancing his project, his _dream_ that would make the world a better place, that would make him feel like his existence was worthwhile. It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered, because without his anime he was _nothing,_ with the potential to become _nothing_. Anime was all that mattered, and people could say what they wanted about that outlook, but it was Ryota’s truth and he didn’t care.

It was Sagishi entering his life that finally forced him to… _reconsider_ this position, to accept the most minuscule possibility that, perhaps, _there was more to life than great animation._

From the second Sagishi’s shadowy face came whirring and spinning into focus that evening, he’d been fascinating. Of course, Hope’s Peak was full to the brim with anomalies, but Sagishi was truly an anomaly among anomalies. His bizarre lifestyle, his outlook on life, his very _existence_ absolutely baffled the young animator. He was nothing, yet he was _everything_. In the palm of his hand he held infinite identities, infinite personalities, infinite _lives_ that made up his arsenal of elaborate masks with which he kept his own face permanently veiled.  Yet he was _kind._ Painfully kind to someone who, over and over again, didn’t ask for it and didn’t deserve it. Not that Ryota wasn’t outspokenly grateful for the imposter expending so much time, effort and often money for the sake of his ever-declining health, not to mention vastly facilitating his animation efforts by adopting his identity, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking _why_? _Why would somebody care enough about him to do this?_ Why was his health so concerning that Sagishi ended up visiting almost every day to make sure he was properly nourished and hydrated? He didn’t need to do that. _Why did he care?_ Why did he often give the impression that he sincerely enjoyed Ryota’s company? Was it just another character he played? _Why, why, why would he want to spend any time with him? Why?_ _Was this a prank? Had Sagishi been humouring him out of pity the entire time? Or maybe it was some kind of conspiracy?_

Despite such questions perpetually beating Ryota down, as time went on, it became harder and harder to fight against the evidence that _maybe Sagishi really and truly cared about him?_ Maybe this caring doppelganger of his had no sinister ulterior motives, and maybe Ryota wasn’t simply arrogantly imagining the other’s genuine attachment and affection for him.

It almost made him feel like…

like maybe he was worth something that wasn’t his work. After all, Sagishi was constantly telling him to go to bed, to take a break, to start work again tomorrow because his health was so much more important than his potential magnum opus. Maybe he meant something to someone. Maybe this person would be affected in a negative way if he were to disappear. _Maybe this person saw some kind of intrinsic worth in him._

It was honestly a hard concept to grasp, something he hadn’t even dared to consider in so many years. And every time Sagishi visited with a box of leftovers or a coffee, every time they snickered together about the antics of Sagishi’s class, every time they ended up chatting about nothing an everything into the small hours of the morning, Ryota was forced to re-examine the possibility that _somebody truly liked being around him._ Before long, he began to positively _crave_ Sagishi’s visits. His heart would begin fluttering and pounding when he heard the familiar knock at his door, and his face would flood with heat when his ears filled with Sagishi’s rich, comforting voice asking to come in. When he chuckled at something Ryota said, a mysterious energy would blossom within the animator’s chest, a deep happiness that warmed even the icy tips of his spindly fingers. _He didn’t deserve this. He couldn’t offer Sagishi anything in return. He didn’t deserve anyone._ Such statements would never stop ringing in Ryota’s head, constantly whispering in his ear to turn Sagishi away, to keep working in solitude until he collapsed from starvation in his chair and hopefully didn’t die.

But…maybe he didn’t want to be that way anymore. Maybe he wanted to be a real person who allowed others to love him, who was filled with adoration for the most important people in his life, who saw worth in himself and let others do the same. He wanted to allow Sagishi to see the worth in him. He wanted to let Sagishi _love_ him.

It was as if…as if the Super High School Level Imposter had brought with him a new brand of hope, a kind that he had never truly opened himself up to, that he had always been so terrified of as to tell himself that it wasn’t available to him. And it was a hope that he decided he never wanted to abandon again.

He never wanted to be lonely again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quite a short one, more of a rambly character study tbh   
> i'm not used to writing short chapters but this is actually kinda nice  
> will update with chapter 3 possibly this time next week, or also possibly on ryota's birthday (30th) bcos that would be cute  
> next chapter: Day Three, Confession


	3. Day 3, Confession

‘Mitarai? Knock knock, I’m coming in,’

Like every day, he was met with the animator’s back and the headache-inducing light of his screens cutting through the dimness of his bedroom. Mitarai greeted him with a quiet ‘…Hey’ that came out as little more than breathy squeak, to which Sagishi raised an eyebrow. Quickly scanning the boy, he looked stiff in the shoulders, and the thumb of his non-dominant hand was drumming ever so quietly on his desk. Sagishi sighed, flicked the lights on and opened the curtains, flooding the room with natural light. Sakura petals floated in the cool air outside, and just for a second Sagishi imagined going out with the reclusive animator on such a perfect day. He quickly cleared his mind; fantasies like that weren’t even worth entertaining.

‘Hanamura made curry for everyone so I brought some back for you.’ he spoke, setting the box of cold curry on the bedside table. ‘You know, just in case you perhaps hadn’t eaten yet today?’

Mitarai turned his head, a strange, weak smile on his lips, his thumb continuing to drum against his work surface. His gaze seemed to avoid Sagishi’s almost aggressively.

‘Thanks,’ he breathed. ‘I um…I haven’t yet to be honest. I mean, I was planning to stop for a break at 1 and then it was 3.30 a-and…well, you know how it goes,’

Sagishi smirked. ‘Well, here I am telling you to stop now and have a late lunch/early dinner with me.’

Looking at the animator’s face properly he looked flushed, glassy-eyed, sweaty. If he hadn’t eaten since yesterday evening Sagishi wasn’t surprised. Mitarai swallowed thickly and put his pen down. It almost seemed as if he needed to catch his breath. _Why would he be out of breath?_

‘R-really? It’s…it’s like 5 o’clock…’

‘Yes? And? Will you come and eat with me please? I’m starving; it’s been hours since those of us in the real world had lunch.’

Sagishi was itching to tell the animator about how Owari came dangerously close to falling from the school roof today, or how Souda was seriously considering dying his hair neon green instead of neon pink in his pursuit of Sonia’s affections. He liked talking to Mitarai about things. He savoured the moments that his mask was off, when he could embody his own self and nobody else mattered. It was only around Mitarai that nobody else seemed to matter, that his identity as an imposter seemed to become so irrelevant. He wondered if Mitarai had any idea just how contented he made him. Probably not.

The animator bit his lip and turned back to his computer for an instant before stopping himself, closing his eyes and breathing out. With a half-smile forming shakily on his lips he replied quietly ‘Of course I will.’

Was Sagishi imagining how extremely uneasy his friend was acting?

Mitarai sat himself next to Sagishi on the bed, pulling his legs up to his chest and taking his curry from the bedside table. Sagishi watched out of the corner of his eye as the animator gingerly took a bite of rice.

‘…You know I can take that to the kitchen and heat it up for you if you want. I mean it’s cold right?’

Mitarai shook his head and swallowed. ‘No, it’s alright, you don’t have to. I-I mean, thanks but I kind of like it like this.’

Sagishi shrugged and reached for the packet of chips in his satchel, tearing them open and lazily scarfing down a handful. ‘If you say so.’

A silence followed, but Sagishi knew both of them were okay with silence. Silence didn’t mean awkward with them, nor did it denote any kind of tension in the air. They enjoyed the precious gaps between conversation and they both knew it. It was moments like this, in fact, that Sagishi had begun to find deeply comforting. Any time spent with his friend felt comforting, felt inherently _safe_.

Strangely, Mitarai’s body next to him looked rigid, as if he was either anticipating something very important or dreading something very unpleasant. Besides the glaze of exhaustion over his eyes, he almost looked hyper-focused on something unknown, his gaze fixed to a spot on the floor as he pushed his food around absent-mindedly. But Sagishi had learned not to immediately assume the worst when the animator behaved unusually, as it was often connected either to a lack of food or a lack of sleep or both, so he kept his mouth shut. After some of Hanamura’s curry he’d surely perk up and Sagishi, once again, would feel silly for worrying in the first place. If there was something wrong, maybe Sagishi could take his mind off it.

‘Owari decided it was such a beautiful day today that she wanted to spend it outside.’ he started, popping a greasy chip into his mouth. ‘So she climbed to the roof again.’

‘A-again?’ came the mousy voice next to him. It was distant, as if he wasn’t fully listening. Sagishi chose to overlook it; the animator had likely spent the entire day working and was probably relatively out of it as a result.

‘I think she enjoys the climb more than the view, god knows why, the girl’s insane. Koizumi was taking photos of the whole thing, including when she lost her footing and almost fell to her doom. I mean, she didn’t, she was fine, but it was pretty scary. I’m just glad Yukizome wasn’t there, she would have fainted on the spot.’

Silence.                                                         

‘…And…and Souda pulled me aside today and asked me what I would think of him dying his hair again, because he wanted the opinion of all the guys in the class for…whatever reason. He wants it green this time. You’d think the guy already looked wacky enough, but I don’t know, maybe green would fit his whole aesthetic more.’

More silence.

At this point Sagishi was sure that Mitarai wasn’t listening. Maybe his rambling anecdotes were starting to get boring. He turned to the boy with mock annoyance, hopefully serving to mask his sudden pangs of genuine annoyance. ‘Are you even paying attention?’

The boy hummed quietly, a vaguely ‘yes’-like sound, but one of the faintest Sagishi had ever heard, as if his words had gone in one ear and out the other. His sole movement was his thumb repeatedly brushing over his knee in short, rapid swipes. With the same mysterious glaze over his eyes, he continued to stare directly ahead of him. He seemed so nervous. Why would he seem nervous? Today was like any other day.

‘…Mitarai?’ Sagishi offered, his annoyance undercut with a sudden fear that something was genuinely wrong. He tentatively extended a hand to the boy’s shoulder. ‘Are you feeling alright? You’re…you’re very flushed.’ The boy was positively crimson in the cheeks.

‘…If you need me to get the nurse I can-‘

‘I-I need to tell you something,’ the animator muttered suddenly, a certain conviction behind his words that hadn’t been there before. He put his curry back onto the bedside table and turned to Sagishi, their gazes suddenly locked together, Mitarai’s amber irises glowing golden with determination. God, the way the white sunlight spilling through the window hit his face was so _beautiful. **He** was so beautiful. How was he so beautiful?_

‘…Tell me something…tell me what?’

Mitarai took a deep, shaking breath, as if pausing to collect himself after such an uncharacteristically confident display. ‘L-look…I…I mean…I…’

His explanation quickly trailed off into a series of sounds, beginnings of words that he couldn’t seem to verbalise and string together. Sagishi leant towards him further with the gentlest smile he could muster.

‘It’s okay, don’t rush yourself,’ he spoke softly. ‘ _You can tell me anything,’_ he didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

The animator put a hand to his damp forehead, pressing his lips together, shaking his head agitatedly. ‘..Ah…I-I…haha, I feel really sick right now.’

Sagishi blinked.

‘…That’s what you wanted to tell me?’

‘N-no! I…that isn’t i-it, hold on, I’m getting there!’

Pressing his palms into his eye sockets and struggling through another deep breath, Mitarai steadied himself. How important could this information possibly be? It was honestly starting to make Sagishi nervous himself.

‘I’ve been…w-well honestly, for weeks n-now I’ve been t-trying to say this, or at l-least I’ve been telling m-myself that I need to say this and…well, n-never before now actually being b-brave e-enough to spit it out…’

‘Mitarai, please, just tell me what’s going on, you’re scaring me.’

The animator squeezed his eyes shut and let his head fall into his hands for a few moments. He looked like he wanted to run, like he was on the verge of jumping out the window, or locking himself in the cupboard. That, or losing consciousness right there. Sagishi suddenly found himself praying that the latter didn’t occur.

‘…I was…it’s just that, well, before we met, I was…I was s-so…unhappy.’

Something wrenched in Sagishi’s chest. That loneliness, that bitter, toxic sadness that he was all too familiar with. Why did it suddenly feel like Mitarai had known the exact same pain?

‘I was going through life in this…in this _trance,_ S-sagishi…I…I _hated_ myself, I hated everyone. I…I was… _so_ a-alone.’

Sagishi smiled empathetically. ‘…Mitarai, I’m proud to have brought something to your life. You’ve certainly helped me.’

‘No, y-you don’t understand, I h-haven’t done anything for you, I-I’ve…I mean, you’re the one w-who’s h-helped _me_ so, so much, it’s…it’s really hard to explain, I’m sorry…I just…’

His voice was starting to crack; he was losing it. Sagishi quickly rested a hand on the boy’s back. ‘Hey, hey, it’s okay; take it slowly if you want.’ Tears were beginning to spill from Mitarai’s eyes, forming small damp patches on the bed, and Sagishi’s heart lurched for the poor boy. Why was he crying? Why would he be crying? Was this why he’d been acting so anxious when Sagishi first came in? Furthermore, Sagishi’s own heartbeat was fast becoming audible in his ears, pounding so fast it felt as if it would tear from his ribs. This couldn’t possibly be leading where it seemed to be leading. _It couldn’t be, don’t be so stupid._

Mitarai opened his mouth to continue, unable to start his sentence for a few seconds before finding his footing again. ‘W-when you found me that n-night…I don’t know, it all… _everything_ just started to seem better…a-all at once, it was _o-overwhelming.’_

Wait.

This really was happening.

Sagishi’s breath caught in his throat as the truth dawned on him so suddenly, so vividly, in a scintillating flash of light that immediately made everything seem so clear. _Was this real? Was this happening? Was this a dream? This couldn’t be real, because this wasn’t what happened in his reality. This didn’t happen to him._

_But it was happening to him._

_‘_ …You were s-so _kind_ to m-me, because that’s…that’s the sort of person you are.’

Sagishi’s heart skipped a beat.

‘…Y-you’re such a good p-person…and I know you’re the Ultimate Imposter, but…but I-I also know that I’ve seen the r-real you, _I know I have.’_

The floating sakura outside cast flickering petal-shaped shadows onto the bed and _Sagishi was_ _overcome with a sense of harmony that filled him up all at once._ It was beautiful. Powerfully, profoundly beautiful. It made him think back to the night he found the boy, the boy who, at that point, didn’t even know he existed, who rested unconscious beside him and somehow made him feel real for the first time in years. Who teased him with the illusion that he never had to be alone again.

What used to be a mere fantasy was now blossoming before his very eyes.

Mitarai paused to gather himself, scrubbing at his damp eyes with the sleeve of his blazer, his cheeks an even deeper crimson than before, his nose running relentlessly. Sagishi didn’t care; he was still so beautiful.

‘…L-look, s-s-surely you k-know where I-I’m going with this by now…’

Sagishi couldn’t stop himself from smiling, because in this moment _this boy was the sweetest, the most perfect thing he had ever seen_. As if compelled by some divine force, he took the animator by the shoulders, pulling him close. Mitarai’s fat tears dripped onto Sagishi’s thigh.

‘…I-I…I really like you. Like, I l-like you like…h-how Sophie likes H-howl, or how Jiro l-likes Nahoko. You…Sagishi, y-you make me f-feel like I m-matter, like I d-deserve what o-other people have just as much as they do, and-‘

In that moment, something took over Sagishi’s body. Without another thought, without another word, without another breath, he pulled the animator into a deep, soft kiss. A kiss that stopped time, right there, in that bedroom, with the sakura drifting lazily through the rays of afternoon light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is ahead of schedule but it's anime boy's birthday so i thought posting it today would be cute   
> he deserves some content on his canon birthday  
> next chapter: Day 4, First Date


	4. Day 4, First Date

In the very periphery of Ryota’s awareness, the door to his bedroom clicked open and closed behind him. Following the few seconds it took for him to register the fact that the familiar noise was coming far earlier than usual, he halted his careful line work and whipped his head around, a small smile forcing its way onto his face as soon as his eyes met Sagishi’s. He prayed his cheeks weren’t becoming noticeably redder, despite the sudden rush of heat to his face.

‘Hey,’ he chirped, pushing his swivel chair across the room with his foot. Sagishi grinned, stopping the chair in its tracks by firmly grabbing the back of it. ‘What’s up, don’t you have classes right now or something?’

‘I do.’ Sagishi spoke cheerfully, spinning the animator around to face him. ‘But I am skipping today because…I want to take you out.’

Ryota blinked. Not that the concept of skipping class wasn’t all too familiar to him given his lifestyle, and it wasn’t as if Hope’s Peak cared all that much about good attendance. What stuck in his mind were the words "take you out."

‘…Take me out…a-as in…’

‘As in…take you out. You know, like...on a date.’

Ryota abruptly found that his face was not only hot, but absolutely burning. Incapable of maintaining eye contact with the imposter he fixed his gaze to the ground, his hand jerking upwards to fiddle with his hair, which he had tied back into a lazy ponytail that day

‘O-on a date? Does that mean that we’re…you know, d-dating?’

Sagishi paused and ambled across the room to Ryota’s bed, sitting on the side as usual.

‘…Well, yeah, I guess we are. Is that okay? We don’t have to call it dating if it makes you uncomfortable.’

‘N-no! Not uncomfortable, I promise, just…new.’ Ryota glanced upwards and made sure to smile, scratching the side of his cheek softly. ‘I’ve never, you know, _dated_ anyone before.’

Sagishi put a hand on the animator’s knee, making Ryota aware that he’d been anxiously tapping his foot throughout the entire interaction.

‘Well, neither have I, if that helps,’ he replied, shrugging his shoulders, offering that warm, comforting half-smile that Ryota had become so accustomed to over the last few weeks. A smile that always let him know that everything was _probably_ going to be fine.

Although something in Ryota wasn’t 100% certain that Sagishi hadn’t dated before; he was just too _charming,_ too pleasant to be around. That is, when he was just being himself. How many others had he shown that side to? How many others has he allowed to get even vaguely close to him?

Was Ryota special in that regard? Was he really the first person Sagishi had ever let into his life in this way? He quickly pushed the thoughts into the back of his mind for later, when he could obsess and agonise over them in privacy.

‘If you really are taking me on a date then...where are we going?’

Ryota desperately bit back the urge to demand that this ‘date’ didn’t take up too much of the day; while he had a strict work schedule to consider, he could see why putting a cap on his time with Sagishi could be seen as insensitive, especially since his boyfriend seemed so excited for it.

‘Just out.’ Sagishi hummed. ‘It’s…kind of a nice day out.’

Ryota raised an eyebrow curiously. _‘Kind of_?’

‘Also, you literally haven’t been outside in days, no, _weeks.’_

The animator exhaled a laugh, unable to find a rebuttal. Damn, his brain was tired. Maybe he did need to go out. By this point, he’d practically forgotten what fresh air felt like. Without further hesitation, he took Sagishi’s hand.

\--

‘I just think that no outstanding soundtrack can save a poorly written show.’ Ryota shrugged before hastily fastening his arms across his torso, trying to avoid visibly shivering in front of Sagishi. Despite it being a relatively bright day, the air seemed bitingly cold to him. Every so often, the sun peeked from behind blankets of pale cloud, casting the streets in puddles of soft light for several seconds to several minutes at a time. It had been raining the night before, or earlier that morning - Ryota hadn’t really noticed on account of his work – but the pavement, damp with rainwater, glistened in the greyish sunshine. Beneath his nagging anxiety to return to his bedroom and pick up his pen, as well as the strange palpitations he seemed to get every time he so much as made vague eye-contact with a stranger, he was happy to experience the sakura-blossoming season in its final stages of the year. He was happy to let his skin breathe the crisp spring air, to move his legs for longer than the ten seconds it took for him to lazily stretch the pins and needles out of them, and to feel Sagishi’s soothing, warming presence beside him.

‘So, you’re saying that bad writing pretty much dooms an anime for you? Nothing can save an anime from a shoddy plot or characters?’

Ryota hummed thoughtfully, brushing a few stray hairs from his cheek, forgetting for a moment that he was wearing his old glasses in a clumsy, possibly futile attempt to obscure the fact that he and Sagishi looked eerily similar. Sagishi assured him that they wouldn’t run into any of his classmates due to Chisa Yukizome’s particularly strict policies regarding attendance, but Ryota nevertheless wanted to take the precaution. God, how he preferred his contacts.

‘Well…n-not quite…’

Sagishi waited patiently for his answer.

‘…I suppose I’d class good plot and characters above everything else, but having all that on its own can create something that is, at best, enjoyable. Everything else is there to elevate that; the soundtrack, the character design, the backgrounds, the animation…it’s like…it’s like having a firework compared to, you know, lighting it up. The best shows, to me, are the ones that impress you in all of these areas, or at least a good number of them. The best shows…you just don’t forget the best shows. When they come along, they can...I don’t know, they can change your life _…_ ’

During his passionate ramble, Ryota had unknowingly began clasping his hands together, and, upon noticing, shoved them into the pocket on the front of his hoodie. He swallowed, biting the skin on his lip, casting his eyes downwards. _Sagishi doesn’t care about anime, you’re boring him, can’t you tell? Can’t you tell that he’s feeling really uncomfortable right now, that he obviously doesn’t want to be seen with a weird otaku?_

‘S-sorry…I…that was kinda embarrass-‘

‘Animation truly is your passion, isn’t it?’

He paused, his lips parting, breath catching for a moment.

‘…Y-yeah…yeah it is. It’s…well, it means the world to me…’

He looked up. Sagishi was smiling, his eyes soft and empathetic without appearing patronising.

‘I can feel how much you love it. It’s…admirable.’

‘Admirable?’

‘Of course! Being that passionate about something, having it mean so much to you…think of all the people who don’t get to experience that, who…exist with nothing like that to drive them. Some never find real purpose in their lives, but...but you _have_. I tell you, if your anime can encapsulate that passion, that unique vision, then it _will_ change lives.’

Ryota’s heart seemed to rattle in his chest, his palms sweating in the pocket of his hoodie, his breathing unbearably loud in his ears. A million thoughts seemed to race through his mind at once, each one too fast for him to actually address.

_If only your passion was enough. If only you didn’t have to lace your work with subliminal messaging._

_If only Sagishi was right._

_He’s so kind. He’s so caring. He’s so patient._

_He thinks so highly of you._

_What a **joke**._

It felt so easy to include layers of subliminal messaging when nobody expected anything from him, when it wasn’t something he felt compelled to hide. He took a deep breath. _Stop it. You haven’t done anything wrong._

_You…haven’t done anything…_

‘That’s…’

In a screeching flash of pink and blue, Sagishi suddenly stumbled forward, causing Ryota to yelp loudly in alarm.

 ** _‘Ryo-chaaaan! Ryo-tomato! Ryo-tangerine!’_** came the boisterous, feminine voice that seemed to draw the attention of the entire street. Catching his breath from the shock, Ryota turned to his doppelganger, who now had a pair of lithe arms fastened around his neck. There was a girl on his back. A girl grinning excitedly while nuzzling her cheek against the back of Sagishi’s head. Ryota noted the metal studs in her ears and beneath her bottom lip, as well as the coloured streaks in her mane of unkempt black hair. He gulped, feeling an overpowering urge to run from this girl who was clearly Sagishi’s friend, who looked far, _far_ too cool to think of the real Ryota as anything more than a joke, not to mention the fact that _she was witnessing two Ryota Mitarai’s at the same time._ Ryota hastily pulled his hood over his head and adjusted his glasses, attempting to take deep breaths. He could feel his face turning red, his heart speeding up again. _This wasn’t part of the deal. Why is she here? Why is this happening, he promised this wouldn’t happen!_ Sagishi looked just as flustered.

‘…Mioda.’

Ah, Mioda. As in Ibuki Mioda. Ryota had heard stories about her, the Ultimate Musician, the girl who wrote a song entitled "I pushed out the baby but have no idea who the father is", among other gems. She sounded…exhausting.

Mioda tightened her grip around Sagishi’s neck. ‘Ohmygoodness you’re here, this day just got 500 times better with a great big cherry on top!’

Every word, no, every _syllable_ , sounded like she was rushing to get to the next one. She sounded like Ryota’s mind when he mixed energy drink with black coffee while pulling his all-nighters, one habit Sagishi was simply better off not knowing about.

‘GASP! And you’re ditching on Miss Yukizome? For _shame_ Ryo-chan!’

Sagishi narrowed his eyes. ‘Well, s-so are you!’

Ryota noted that he’d altered his voice to imitate his own, the embarrassment of the whole situation clawing at his back, his throat closing momentarily as he was forced to hear an uncanny imitation of his own voice. It made his skin crawl.

‘Yeahhhh, well Ibuki had no choice, she’s buying a present for Mahiru-chan’s birthday, it’s a very urgent matter.’

At this point Mioda finally got down off Sagishi’s back, flipping her wild hair over her shoulder and adjusting her bright thigh-highs. Ryota kept his head down as much as he could without drawing attention to himself, praying and praying that she’d suddenly decide to leave.

‘Wait, Koizumi’s birthday was weeks ago, we all celebrated it together…’ Sagishi spoke in Ryota’s voice while gathering himself after the sudden assault.

‘Yes we _did,_ but if Ryo-chan remembers, Ibuki forgot to buy her a present, and now she wishes to make amends! Mahi-rhubarb is a very special friend and Ibuki wants to let her know! I thought I’d buy yarn and beads to make the most rock-and-roll friendship bracelets you ever did see!’

At this point Mioda seemed to finally notice that Sagishi wasn’t alone, her eyes catching Ryota’s for less than a second, yet long enough for him to become immediately conscious of it. His breath caught.

‘Charming.’ Sagishi spoke ‘Sounds like s-she’ll really like it.’

‘Well, Mr Sausage Fingers,’ she grinned, jabbing at Sagishi’s chest with a slim finger. ‘I’m totally doing one for your birthday, that’s it, I’ve decided, it’s happening. You’d better be excited for July!’

‘August…’ Sagishi interjected. Ryota’s heart fluttered at the fact that Sagishi apparently remembered his birthday, before reminding himself that Sagishi had to know details like that in order to stay in character. _Man…why is this situation so weird._

‘ALSO! Also, also, who is your friend?! Tell me now, Ibuki must know!’

Ryota froze. _Please no. Is it too late to run away?_ _Why is Sagishi so calm?_ _This wasn’t meant to happen._

‘Ah, Mioda, this is actually my younger brother-‘

‘S-satoru!’

It came out faster than he had any control over, Satoru being the first name that came to mind after his 3 am _Erased_ binge the previous night. He immediately wished he had named himself after a better-written character from a better-written show.

Both Sagishi and Mioda had their eyes on him. He gulped.

‘I…I mean my name is…S-S-Sa..Satoru…Satoru Mitarai…it’s good to meet-‘

He had no time to finish his greeting before Mioda’s hands were gripping his cheeks. He yelped, tensing up at the contact. Her nails were not only too long, but too sharp against his skin. Chills coursed down Ryota’s spine as he noticed her tongue stud; not that he wanted to pass judgements on her life choices, but the thought of having a surgical instrument stab a hole through his tongue made him slightly light-headed.

Mioda gasped loudly. Her breath was warm, smelling like coffee.

‘ ** _You’re_ … _you’re so cute!_** You’re like a mini Ryo-chan!’ With a quick motion she yanked his hood off, allowing his sandy hair to tumble to his shoulders.

Somewhere in the background, Sagishi attempted to intervene. ‘Mioda-‘

'Ryo-potato, this is the best thing I’ve seen all day!’ she squealed with glee, pulling at Ryota’s cheeks enough for it to hurt. His head felt like it was full of rushing water, every thought jumbled into one barely coherent plea for help.

‘M-Mioda, please,’ Sagishi placed a hand on her shoulder, gently forcing her off him. As soon as her hands left his cheeks he had to swallow down the urge to run away as fast as his legs could carry him, which was, admittedly, not all that fast.

‘You two look… _so_ similar! It’s like your twins! Aren’t you twins?!’

_Yeah, as a matter of fact, why **didn’t** Sagishi just say they were twins? It would have made their uncanny likeness a lot more explicable._

‘He’s, um…well, he’s a year younger than me, s-so no.’

‘But you’re like…nearly _identical!_ You have the same hair and everything!’ Mioda suddenly pressed her fingertips to her temples, forcing her makeup-covered eyes closed. ‘Wait…ideas are happening. Thoughts are coming to Ibuki…’

Ryota took a moment to collect himself, his heartrate through the roof, his skin hot as he battled with the repeated surges of anxiety hitting him like a barrage of bullets. He exchanged glances with Sagishi, who rested a hand on his shoulder, saying with his eyes that everything was going to be fine. Ryota attempted to exhale as smoothly as he could.

‘Wait a second…Ibuki knows what’s going on here…Ibuki can see through your charade…’

There was a terrible silence. Ryota tensed. So did Sagishi, albeit only slightly. _Seriously? Does she know? She can’t know the truth, it’s impossible. Damn it, this can’t be happening!_

‘…Clones!’

Another terrible silence. Ryota’s shoulders deflated in relief. _So she doesn’t know…_

‘One of you is totally a clone!’

Ryota’s mind went blank. Sagishi was silent for a few seconds before clearing his throat.

‘U-um…what?’

‘Ryo-chan is a clone of Sato-chan, or the other way around. Wait, no, Sato-chan must be a clone of Ryo-chan since he’s so much smaller!’

‘…How’d you figure that?’ Sagishi cut in, only to be ignored.

‘So if Sato-chan is a clone of Ryo-chan, that means you’re an animator as well, right?’

She jabbed a finger in Ryota’s direction but gave him no time to respond before moving on.

‘I UNDERSTAND! By cloning the Super High School Level Animator, you plan to create the most successful animation studio of all time! A Ghibli for the new generation! Ibuki sees through your cover story all too well!'

‘M-mioda, please!’ Sagishi hushed nervously. Ryota was becoming dreadfully aware that people were starting to stare, however the idea of an animation studio made up entirely of copies of himself lingered stubbornly in his mind. _Imagine how quickly the anime would be finished!_ The idea almost made him drool.

‘Ryo-chan’s the first Ryo, right? OR maybe both of you are clones of a master Ryo! The alpha Ryo, if you will! ** _I demand that you take me to your leader!’_**

At this, several more pedestrians turned to look at the trio. Sagishi took Mioda’s shoulder and pressed a finger to his lips, shushing frantically in her ear. ‘Keep y-your voice down, would you?! You’re making a scene!’

Even when acting more assertively than Ryota ever would with a classmate, Sagishi continued to stay in character. The animator could only be impressed. Impressed, and mortified that they had caught the attention of so many people. He quickly yanked his hood back over his head, picking at his fingernails anxiously.

‘Aaaaahhh so this is a super-secret cloning operation that us regular joes aren’t supposed to know about?’ Mioda lowered her voice and Ryota’s heart settled a bit. ‘Ibuki gets it, when you’re part of scheme as large-scale as this, you gotta keep it under your hats.’

‘We are not clones!’ Sagishi hissed exasperatedly.

Mioda smirked and crossed her arms, tapping her foot lightly against the pavement. ‘Okay, yeah, sure, whatever Ryo-tango, you and your "brother" are _definitely_ not clones, hear that everyone?’ she cupped her gloved hand around her mouth and half-shouted into the semi-busy streets around them. ‘These two are definitely just “brothers”, nothing else going on!’

Ryota’s skin prickled as he fought the urge to clamp his hands over Mioda’s mouth. To the casual observer it probably sounded like she was talking about him and Sagishi dating! Not that he was in any way ashamed of that, but he was in no state to have any more attention drawn to him in this moment. Plus, he and Sagishi really _did_ look like brothers, even identical twins, which would raise a whole new set of questions if people discovered they were actually going out.

She winked at them. ‘Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with your friendly neighbourhood Ibuki!’

At this point, another voice sounded from somewhere behind them.

‘Ah, Mioda, Mitarai, how hopeful that I’d run into you here!’

Ryota froze. _No, no, no, no, no, no, not another one!_ In the same instant, he noticed how grey and threatening the clouds were looking, feeling a cold spot of rain on the back of his hand. He turned around to see a lanky boy approaching them. Tall and spindly, his thin and puffy hair a sort of off-white, like dirty snow. He wore a forest-green coat over his Hope’s Peak uniform that billowed behind him as he walked. Ryota noted his beaming, peaceful smile, his stance that was relaxed almost to the point of being graceful. There was something…angelic, ethereal about him.

However, Sagishi seemed to deflate. ‘H-hey Komaeda…’

‘Koma-coconuts, Kokomo, Komae-daikon radish!’ Ibuki sang, saluting energetically, jogging to greet the pale teen. ‘Howsit hangin?’

It really was starting to rain now, the small, cold spots turning into fat droplets that formed clustered blobs of water on Ryota’s glasses. Sagishi clutched the animator’s arm discreetly, lowering his voice to a whisper. ‘Shall we just go back to the dorms?’

Ryota nodded desperately, forcing a shaky smile, urging himself not to dash back to his bedroom and never leave ever again. ‘Yes, _please, please, please_ can we go back _?’_ Sagishi nodded subtly yet firmly before reverting to his ‘Ryota’ façade, approaching Komaeda and Mioda who were chattering back and forth.

‘Hey guys, we should, um…we should really get going, but I guess I’ll see you in class…’ he waved quietly. Mioda gave him a 1000-watt grin, wrapping thin arms around his middle. ‘Until next time, Ryo-tambourine! Look after mini-Ryo for me!’ Komaeda also gave a small wave, his smile almost sickeningly pleasant. ‘Sorry about the rain,’ he spoke bashfully. ‘I blame myself…’

Ah, yes. Komaeda, at any given time, brought either tremendous good luck or horrific bad luck. It sounded to Ryota like some ridiculous urban legend, but Sagishi swore by its validity.

For good measure, Ryota bowed uneasily before Sagishi grabbed him by the hand and the pair hurried away. Rain slammed against the sidewalk, puddles already forming in the gutters. As the pair sped into a run, Ryota felt the muddy water drench the back of his trousers as he kicked it upwards with the backs of his shoes. Pedestrians scattered left and right, running for cover in nearby shops, scrambling in their bags to find umbrellas and raincoats. Sakura petals on the ground that were once delicate and pale were now forming small heaps of gritty pink muck. Sagishi assured Ryota that he really thought they wouldn’t see anybody out today. ‘They never skip class anymore!’ he shouted through the deafening drone of water cascading from the sky. ‘We’ve had full attendance for weeks now!’ Ryota didn’t remember the last time he had to run this far (or at all), and, just as his pace was beginning to slow dramatically, was hoisted roughly onto Sagishi’s back. For someone so big, Sagishi was almost athletically good at sprinting, especially considering he was carrying Ryota’s extra weight.

‘Y-you…you really don’t need to carry me!’ Ryota puffed, clutching desperately onto Sagishi’s shoulders with freezing hands.

‘Well, see this as my way of making today up to you!’ Sagishi spluttered, rainwater dribbling over his nose and lips as he spoke. ‘I’m…I’m really sorry, I know that must have been hard for you…but you handled it really well, and we can watch whatever anime you like when we get back!’

A smile pulled at Ryota’s cheeks and a tingling energy coursed through his body. _This is your **boyfriend**. And he’s so unbelievably sweet._ A chuckled escaped his lips, which soon evolved into a laugh.

It was chaotic, the entire situation. He had never liked chaos, but with Sagishi, somehow it became bearable. In fact, at this moment he would even say that he was having _fun_. Fun, because they were together.

‘What’s so funny?’ Sagishi spoke breathily, the exertion clearly starting to affect him.

Ryota leant into Sagishi and rested his head on his back, he blazer utterly soaked through with water.

‘Nothing I just…you’re a-amazing...’

Sagishi was silent, but Ryota could feel the warmth radiating off him, a glow of appreciation, and maybe even reciprocation. However, he didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

‘But I think our _d_ - _dates_ should probably be indoors from now on…’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took  
> too long  
> i apologise, the part of me that is motivated to write stuff has been very quiet lately  
> this wasn't meant to read like an episode of some corny shojo anime but hey what can you do  
> Next chapter: Day 5, Memento


End file.
